


Rough Day

by great_turkey_calamity



Series: Sharkandegg Cinematic Universe (kids) [3]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex is a lawyer and lost a big case, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Immigration, Mild Angst with a happy ending, Not Beta Read, Their kid comes out as non-binary, parenting, sad time all around, whoo boy it’s emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_turkey_calamity/pseuds/great_turkey_calamity
Summary: Henry is trying to comfort both Alex and their child as they both deal with personal problems.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Sharkandegg Cinematic Universe (kids) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944718
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	Rough Day

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all know the drill, it’s another kid fic, woop woop!! Not me profiting off of @sharkandegg’s kid OCs 👀 
> 
> Jamie is really the only kid mentioned in this, and they're referenced as ‘D’. In this piece, they are ten years old.
> 
> Also, my apologies if the layout looks weird. I messed up a bunch in my feeble attempt at editing this lol. 
> 
> Check out @sharkandegg’s tumblr: @handsomeroyalheretic
> 
> Happy Reading!!

He lost the case.

Henry already knows that much by seeing the look on Alexander’s face. His husband has a bleeding heart, bless him, and had grown very attached to this case and the family he was defending; not very wise for an immigration lawyer to do. 

“How’d it go?” He asks, feeling a bit dumb for asking, but giving Alex the opportunity to share the finer details of what happened in court today. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Castillo are being sent back to Honduras at the end of the week.” Alex grunts, shucking off his jacket and draping it over the back of the recliner. 

“What about the babies?”  
  


“Mrs. Castillo has a sister who came here on DACA. She was able to complete the actual immigration process a year or two ago.” Alex explains, scrubbing over his face with a sigh. “Thought for sure that I had this one.”

Henry beckons him over, taking him into his arms. 

“You gave it your best, love.” He mumbles into his hair, patting him on the back. “You stayed up day and night working on this case, put an absolutely insane amount of time into it. There’s nothing more that you can do.” He continues, chest pounding with sympathy. “How long are they barred from coming back?”

“Five years,” Alex replies, sighing. “Judge wanted to give ‘em ten, but I pulled together a deal at the last minute.”

“ _Christ_ ,” Henry breathes. Those children are two and three years old respectively; he wonders if the aunt can even provide for them. “How old is the sister?”

“She’s twenty-two. Trauma nurse in the Bronx. It just— it feels like a lot to push into someone so _young_. We weren’t ready for parenthood when we were that young, we weren’t even out of the closet yet.”

“Well, give her our information after the custody transfer. If she needs help, or if anything’s too much for her,” Henry starts, choosing his words carefully. “We’ll help her through it. We have the funds, and just renewed our foster licenses, in case there aren’t any vacancies at any shelters. They’ll be alright, if push comes to shove.” 

Alex is stone silent, and Henry takes it as an opportunity to continue speaking.  
  


“You should take a few days off,” He suggests. “Stay at home with me and the kids. You deserve to charge your batteries.”

“I shouldn’t,” Alex argues, hesitant.

“Love, all of your colleagues know how important this was to you,” Henry rebuts, holding him at a distance to look him in the eye. “They’ll understand if you need some time away from work.”

Alex sighs, looking resigned. “I’ll take a four day weekend. Only because you’re insisting on it, and I haven’t had a chance to spend time with the kids in ages.”  
  


“Good.” Henry praises. “They’ll all new so happy to have you home.” He says, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and easy.

Loud thudding from upstairs startles him, making him jolt and pull away.

“You okay, D?” He shouts up. They’ve taken to shortening Dahlia’s name down; she seems to respond in a more positive way when they do so.

“ _Yeah, Dad!_ ” Is what he receives in response, and he lets his shoulders fall in relief.

“What’s D doing here?” Alex asks, suddenly tense again. “Shouldn’t she be in school?”

“They had me come get her.” Henry admits sheepishly. 

“For what?”

“Wearing trousers to school and refusing to do confession.” He continues, and Alex is clearly holding back laughter. “I didn’t punish her, because, well, what am I supposed to do? Ground her for being comfortable? Scold her for not wanting to talk to some old priest about her ‘ _sins_ ’? I’m just letting her have her privacy, take some time to herself.”

Alex nods. “I get it; she's young. Doesn’t understand much about organized religion. Can’t blame her for acting out, really—“ He pauses, hearing the squeaking of shoes against their wooden stairs as D runs down. 

Henry’s eyes widen, in shock and disbelief. D’s hair, once long, thick, beautiful brown ringlets, is now in complete ruins. Uneven strands, a few unharmed ringlets, and, in some places, nearly buzzed to the skin.

“I— you—“ He stutters, trying to find his words.

Alex hides a laugh bubbling up with a cough. He gets elbowed in the ribs anyways. 

“I’m not a girl.” D says, voice shaking but face serious as can be. It’s quite the funny expression, especially to see on a ten year-old.

Henry’s brain short circuits.

“Are you a boy?” Alex asks, trying to engage D in conversation while Henry reboots.

“I— no, I don’t think so.” D replies. They look scared, ready to run.

“So you’re like Pez?” He continues, and Henry pulls himself back into the present, snapping back into it. 

“Yeah,” They reply. “Yeah, like Pez.” They agree, pulling their jacket sleeves down over their hands. “I’m gonna go back up now.”

“I’ll be up to fix your hair in just a moment.” Henry replies.

They nod, running back up stairs, their door shutting silently behind them.

“You should call Pez; we could definitely use some advice.” Henry suggests, turning to Alex.

Alex nods. “I’m on it. Good luck.” He offers.

“I’ll certainly need it.”  
  


He pecks his husband’s cheek, and starts upstairs, heading down the hall and pausing at D’s bedroom door. 

He knocks several times, loud and clear, making his presence known. “Can I come in?” He asks.

“Yeah, go ahead!” D replies, and Henry sighs,  
opening the door.

D is sweeping up hair, dumping it into their small rubbish bin. Surprisingly, it’s not covering the entire room; their hair’s mostly on the floor surrounding the vanity. 

Henry sees the clippers sitting on the table top, and looks back at their hair; it’s intimidating, but not completely unable to salvage.

“Take a seat and I’ll fix it up.” He offers, and they nod, plopping down the chair after sticking the broom in the corner. 

He begins with the ringlets and awkward strands, buzzing them all off. 

“You’re definitely not in trouble,” He starts, making that much certain as he cleans up the back, getting it as even as possible. “But you shouldn’t have taken the razor and used it without my permission.”

“Well, I kind of _had_ to.” D replies, and Henry raises a brow at this.

“Cutting your hair is hardly a life or death situation, my love.”

“Well, it felt like it to _me!_ ” They exclaim, and Henry’s heart stops. “I just— I thought if I didn’t do it, something really bad was gonna happen, so I did it and— and— and—“ They stammer, tears streaming down their face.

Henry feels something inside him die as he wraps his arms around his child, shushing them as they cry. His poor, poor baby; how long have they been this way? How long have they been miserable, been in pain? How low does someone have to be that a haircut feels like the difference between life and death? He can’t— no, he won’t— bring himself to think about it. This isn’t his moment; D deserves to let it all out. 

“Darling, I am so, _so_ sorry.” He apologizes, throat thick with unshed tears. “We should have seen the signs. We should have taken note of them sooner. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s— it’s okay,” They get out between sobs and hiccups, sniffling loudly. “I was trying to make sure you didn’t find out. I was— I was too scared to tell anyone.”

“How long have you known?”

“A couple of months.”

_Months_. His child has kept such an integral, deeply important part of themself hidden for months. He doesn’t know what to make of it. He sinks down to their level, making eye contact with them and grasping their tiny, cold hands in his.

“D, your father and I love you so much,” He explains, squeezing their hands. “And we want you to be happy. We’re already working on a few things. Papa’s calling Pez, and well, I’m cutting the rest of your hair. This is going to be a time of transition for everyone in the house, and if you need us to do anything at all, we need you to let us know, okay?”

D nods, sniffling and hiccuping some more. “Okay. I love you.” They whisper, still a bit shaken up.

“I love you, too.” Henry replies, wiping at their tears before kissing their cheek.

The two of them sit there like that for a moment; D in their chair, and Henry squatting beside them— a father holding his child in a deeply emotional moment. He feels like he hasn’t loved them enough, like every day over the past decade has been neglectful. Every time he called them a girl, every time he wrangled them into a dress, every time he called them _that name_ ; it’s all attacking him at once. He doesn’t know how to feel. He couldn’t have possibly known, but guilt has already began to gnaw away at his too-brittle bones. 

They both sit there until it’s silent, no crying or sniffling to be heard. 

“I should probably go back to fixing your hair now.” He brings up, and he almost cries a little when he hears D laugh.

“Yeah, probably.”

He rises up from the floor and goes back to trimming their hair, taking his time to make sure it looked as good as possible. D ends up with an undercut. It’s not perfectly even, but Henry can definitely say it looks better than before.

“Looks good,” D confirms. “Really cool.”

“I’m glad.” Henry admits. “It suits you well.”

He sweeps up the rest of the hair, tossing it in the bin.

“I’ve got to go down and talk to your father— what do you want for dinner tonight? I’ll go into town and grab it after picking up Sophie and Austin.”

“Can we do pizza?”

“Sounds good to me.” He replies, about to leave the room, pausing when his child calls out for him.

“Dad?” D asks, tentative.

“Yes, love?”

“Thanks.”

Henry nearly breaks down right then and there.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

Henry’s bounding down the staircase when he hears Alex muttering into his cellphone.

“No, really, Ms. Reyes, it’s quite alright. I understand that you’re young. You can barely provide for yourself, much less your nephews. Yes, I’ll do everything in my power to keep them in the States. I promise. Thank you so much for calling, and I hope you have a wonderful evening.” Alexander says, throwing his phone on the coffee table when the call ends, burying his face in his hands as he deflates.

Henry makes his way over to his husband, wrapping him up in his arms and holding him tight.

“Talk to me.” He instructs.

“That was Mrs. Castillo’s sister,” Alex croaks, burying his face in his shoulder. “She can’t take the kids, and I honestly don’t know what to do.” He admits, voice muffled. “She has an older brother, but he’s clear out in Oregon; it’ll be _weeks_ before he can come get them.”

“Oh, love.” Henry coos, playing with his hair. He doesn’t know what to say— the day just seems to get worse and worse for Alex.

“And then D came out, and I completely blew it.” He continues. “You’ve been telling me the warning signs for _years_ , and I never thought anything of it. God, babe, I know it’s really dramatic of me to say shit like this, but I just feel like I can’t do anything right anymore.”

Henry hushes him, continuing to hold him as they sway from side to side. He gives Alexander this moment to wallow in his emotions; he deserves it, after today.

“Do you remember,” Henry starts, whispering into his ear. “Whenever I had my appendix taken out, and I was insistent on working on my my manuscript while I was all hopped up on pain meds?” He asks. “I somehow managed to delete the whole save file, and I cried my bloody eyes out. Do you remember what you said to me?”

“No, what’d I say?”

“You told me that it was okay, because I would get to start over, and do better this time.” He reminds him. “Alex, love, the same goes for you. Sure, we could have noticed a little earlier that D’s different. Sure, the trial was a load of shite. Those are only two moments in one bad day. There will be more trials. There will be many, many more opportunities to be a good parent. We can’t let our minor failures hold us back. I mean, who knows where we would be if we did?” He comments, chuckling, completely exhausted. 

“You’re right.” Alex replies, sighing shakily. He clings to Henry a while longer, before pulling away. “I’ve gotta call the children’s home, see if they can take the kids for a while.” He says, never stopping for too long before forcing himself to get back to the task at hand. “Pez gave me the number of a really good children’s gender therapist, you wanna give them a call?” He asks.

Henry nods, accepting the piece of paper that’s slipped into his right hand.

“I’ll get right on that.” He confirms as Alex leaves the townhouse, going outside to make the call. “And Alexander?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I want you upstairs and napping in ten.” He commands.

Alex raises an eyebrow, before smiling and giving him a singular curt nod.

“Got it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sharkandegg’s Tumblr: @handsomeroyalheretic  
> My Tumblr: @bi-disaster-fsotus


End file.
